


Truth Is A Whisper

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Drama, During Canon, Established Relationship, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Kinks, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-13
Updated: 2008-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-03 12:36:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8714182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: Sequel/Companion to "Whisper My Name" Sam POV - SPOILERS FOR ALL OF SEASON TWO





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

  
Author's notes: The song is "Truth is a Whisper" by the Goo Goo Dolls…song fic bunnies have taken my muse hostage…damn bunnies. Summary is from Grey’s Anatomy because I am just not that eloquent.

**Summary:** Sometimes we tell the truth because the truth is all we have to give. Sometimes we tell the truth because we need to say it out loud to hear it for ourselves. And sometimes we tell the truth because we just can't help ourselves. Sometimes, we tell them because we owe them at least that much.  


* * *

**_~~~~~_ **

****

**_Truth is a whisper and only a choice_ **

**_Nobody hears above this noise_ **

**_Always a risk when you try to believe_ **

**_I know there's so much more than me_ **

Walking away from Dean is the hardest thing Sam has ever had to do in a long life of impossibly hard things. Seeing his brother, looking so lost, almost made him turn around, almost made him say _Fuck it, it’s just not worth this_ and turn his back on all his dreams. Almost. That’s how it’s always been for the Winchesters, a lifetime of _Almost_ and _If Only_ and a million things that never were. Or never should have been.

 

Mary never should have died, John never should have started hunting, Dean never should have given everything he had, and Sam…Sam never should have been born. You see all this? It’s his fault. If Sam hadn’t been born then none of this would have happened. But as much as Sam regrets everything he sees as his fault, the one thing he can’t bring himself to regret is Dean. It’s one thing to be close to your brother, it’s another to be _close_ to him. It’s not something either of them planned, or would have thought of under any normal circumstances, but normal isn’t something that ever seems to happen to the Winchesters. And that’s why he has to leave.

 

A nasty spell cast by a scorned witch left them acting on feelings they didn’t want to admit to themselves, let alone each other. For thirty-six hours they were left bare to each other, no thought unspoken, no desire unrealized. It was both the best and worst time of Sam’s life. Lucky for them both, their desires were similar, their sexual styles compatible. It helped make the best of a bad situation. They never planned to continue as lovers. Sam didn’t plan for it to continue anyway, it just sort of happened, and then it kept happening. Maybe it was the kind of love affair that seems to come quick, and leave slow, but in the middle it’s just fights, and pain, punctuated by great sex, until one of you has the courage to end it, and walk away. Neither of them was brave enough to end it, until a special package came from Stanford and Sam had a way out. A way out of hunting, fighting, a way out of fucking his brother blind every other night. A way into a better life. 

 

Which lead him to this moment. Waiting to board the bus that would take him from Albuquerque to Palo Alto, Sam remembered the one thing he wasn’t running from. The one thing he could never really get away from.

 

“I love you Dean.”

 

He’s not even sure his brother heard him, or if he cared.

**_Yeah I got caught in the ruse of the world_ **

**_It's just a promise no one ever keeps_ **

**_And now it's changing while you sleep_ **

**_And no one here can see_ **

Jess looks a helluva lot like his mother, not that he’ll admit that out loud, and maybe that’s part of the appeal. There’s just something so soft and motherly about her that when he’s in her bed it feels like coming home. That’s about when he starts to think he’s even more fucked up than he ever thought possible, like maybe the perversion in his soul is absolute, and suddenly he’s drinking tequila to forget his name.

 

It’s not all bad really, mostly it’s amazing; it’s just in moments like this that he can’t help but poke at it, like a wound that never quite healed. Lying in the dark, with the smell of their sex lingering in the air, Sam realizes something. It’s not about him, not really, it’s about survival, it’s about doing whatever you have to do to get through the day. And the night. And if that means having his brother’s cock in his mouth, or ramming himself home in a girl who looks like his mom, then that’s what he has to do. The alternative is just not something Sam wants to contemplate.

 

If this is normal then Sam wants a refund, because this? This is not at all what he signed up for. Just when he’s starting to think that he can make this work, the last person he ever expected to see breaks in to his kitchen. _Dean_. Cocksure as always and more than a little beautiful, even in the indifferent light filtering through the curtains. God, could his life get any more fucked up?

**_You know all I am_ **

**_Feel this moment in you_ **

**_You know all I am_ **

**_Can you teach me to believe in something_ **

It’s been six miserable months since Jess died. Six months since Sam felt the skin of another person under his hands. Dean’s off hustling pool at some dive, so he thinks it’s finally safe enough to go out. The club isn’t one his brother would ever set foot in, so Sam’s pretty sure he can find what he’s looking for here. There’s a guy in leather nursing a drink at the bar, the perfect curve of his ass only accentuated by the tight, shiny pants. Bingo.

 

Two drinks later and Sam is bent over the bathroom counter, gripping the sink so hard his knuckles are white with the strain. Leather guy is panting hard in his ear, whispering obscenities that would be highly insulting under other circumstances. A few hard thrusts and Sam feels his skin give, break to bleeding, and it’s like a sign. This is what he was waiting for, pain. He jerks hard, slamming back onto Leather guy’s insistent thrusts, spurting in hot bursts between the cheep Formica and his chest. Peace at last.

 

Limping back to the motel Sam realizes, he never did get Leather guy’s name. It didn’t matter though; as far as Sam was concerned the only thing that mattered is that he wasn’t Dean. The green eyes and freckles were a coincidence. Really.

**_Sometimes you choke on the smell just to breathe_ **

**_I need to question what I need_ **

**_Rhythm of silence that beats through your mind_ **

**_Still you forget what you deny_ **

John Winchester is a colossal ass. Bouncing in and out of their lives since Dean was old enough to keep watch, he’s never really changed. The hunt has consumed so much of his life, it’s like he doesn’t know how to live without it. Sam doesn’t want to think that he’s the same, that Dean’s the same too, because they aren’t. Sam had normal for a while, and Dean, well Dean always had Sam. But when you strip away the details they are the same, the three of them, all they have is their obsessions.

 

Sam knows he should have killed his father, but looking at Dean he just didn’t know how. He didn’t know how to destroy part of the only thing that kept his brother going. Family. Looking down at Dean, so helpless now, he couldn’t help but think he’d made the wrong decision. Having Dean hate him would be infinitely better than having Dean die and leave him. Sometimes, just for a moment, Sam thinks he can feel Dean beside him. It’s almost more reassuring than creepy. Almost.

 

“I love you Dean.” He really does you know, like _really_ does.

 

“I’m sorry Dean.” For so many things he can never put into words.

 

“I never should have left you.” 

 

What he doesn’t say, what he can’t, is that maybe he never should have come back. Maybe he should have said no on that day in Palo Alto. Maybe he should have said yes on that day, so many years ago, when a witch said all she wanted was his body. 

 

Then Dean woke up and life had meaning again. Because, even though he’ll never admit it, as much as Dean doesn’t know how to live without Sam, there’s no part of Sam that _wants_ to live without Dean.

**_Yeah I got caught in the ruse of the world_ **

**_It's just a promise no one ever keeps_ **

**_And now it's changing in your sleep_ **

**_And no one here can see_ **

Being possessed is a bit like being drunk; you don’t do anything you haven’t at least considered doing while sober. Drinking, smoking, fucking nameless girls…it’s all stuff Sam has thought a great deal about, he just never imagined actually doing any of it. When the demon slid inside him, pressed into all his deepest and darkest thoughts, Sam knew he was screwed.

 

It took a week for the demonic presence to break through the last of his defences, to be able to see the truly hidden parts of Sam. Oh boy, talk about a buffet of sin. Everywhere it looked, all the demon could see was Dean. All the things Sam had done to and with Dean, and all the things he imagined doing. Turns out that little Sammy has quite a kinky predilection for pain, giving and receiving. Interesting. 

 

Getting Dean to come running to the rescue was pathetically easy; tricking him with the innocent eyes was easier still. The hard part was that one moment when no one was sure if Dean really had it in himself to kill his own brother. Good thing he didn’t, now it was time to play. Sam knows his brother is smart, in spite of how he tries to play dumb, Sam knew, and therefore the demon knew, that Dean would go looking for the closest hunter in the area. Joanna-Beth Harvelle. Yummy.

 

“My daddy shot your daddy in the head”

 

The demon was kind enough to let Sam see this part, see what it was using his body to do, and deep down; part of Sam kinda liked it. Thanks to demonic super senses, Sam could taste the fear pulsing around Jo as she tried desperately to understand what the hell was going on. Sam Winchester wouldn’t hurt a fly…right? There was no way Sam was planning to hurt her, planning to rape her…right? Well, rape wasn’t really on the menu, but if Dean took any longer to come to the rescue it might be. Look, there he comes now, oh Dean, always big on the heroic entrance. Throw some Holy Water, untie the girl, and then what? Run stupidly after your brother? Dean’s just lucky Sam got control long enough to throw off the demon’s aim. A shot to the shoulder is less than Dean deserves.

 

Going after Bobby was personal; after all, he’s the one who exorcised this particular demon back to hell in the first place. Singer’s smart though, gotta give him credit for the Holy Water in the beer trick, too bad he missed the lock burnt into Sam’s arm until it was too late. Dean’s barely strong enough to muster a weak defence against the full strength of Sam. God, there’s something so beautiful about Dean when he’s bleeding, when he’s finally broken by the world, something so tragic and inviting. Sometimes you have to fight not to push your fingers into the wound just to hear him scream. Or don’t fight it, screaming is like sweet music. 

 

Good thing Bobby’s fast with a poker or Sam might have been left with the knowledge he killed his own brother. His face still hurts from where Dean hit him, but looking at the mottled bruises his hands left on Dean’s skin, Sam knows his pain is worth it. Call it penance, call it reparation, then call it not enough.

**_You know all I am_ **

**_Feel this moment in you_ **

**_You know all I am_ **

**_Can you teach me to believe in something_ **

Madeline was a mistake. If he had slept with her in the beginning, before everything got complicated, maybe he could have salvaged something, but it still would have ended badly. The sex was amazing, something he somehow managed to forget after Jess, but he always needed it to be about more than just great sex. When she turned, when he saw the monster inside the woman he tried so hard to save, Sam felt a moment of real sympathy for his brother and the position he put him in.

 

When Maddy turned, Sam instinctively did what he always did, he ran to his brother for help. All his life, with everything from skinned knees to bullies at school, whenever things got painful, Sam ran to Dean for help. For his part, Dean never hesitated to take up whatever burden Sam was laying at his feet; it’s what a big brother does after all, but this time, just this once, Dean was forced to leave Sam to carry it alone. 

 

When Maddy took his gun, when she pressed it against his chest, Sam understood for the first time what he had asked his brother to do. Dean tried to save Sam from this, tried to save some small part of his brother’s innocence, but Sam just couldn’t let him. Maddy asked him to save her, and when he couldn’t save her, she asked him to save everyone else from her. This was something sacred, something important, something only Sam could do. That’s what Dean will never understand. If someone has to kill you, it’s easier if they love you, and it’s easier if you love them back. He and Maddy didn’t love each other, but they cared, and that’s not nothing. 

 

When he walked back into the living room Sam’s hand shook as he levelled the gun at her chest, hesitating at the thought of ending such a beautiful life. Maddy had more strength in that moment than Sam ever thought possible. She crossed the room, pulling Sam into a tight hug with the gun pressed between them. Leaning up, she whispered softly, _it’s alright Sam, I forgive you._ When she stepped back he pulled the trigger, refusing to allow himself to look away. Sam has never told Dean what happened when he went back into the room, and Dean will never ask; he doesn’t want to know.

**_Who's the one you answer to_ **

**_Do you listen when he speaks_ **

**_Or is everything for you_ **

**_And do you find it hard to sleep_ **

**_Or is it easy on your own_ **

**_Will you ever find some peace_ **

**_Before you're gone_ **

The yellow-eyed sonuvabitch who has dodged their footsteps for more than twenty years is dead. Halle-fucking-lujah. Of course there is the small matter of Dean selling his soul to bring Sam back from the dead hanging over them, but when have Winchesters let something as trivial as life and death keep them from declaring victory? When they declare themselves too tired to celebrate, Bobby gives The Look. He’s not as dumb as he likes you to believe; he knows that something else is going on. He sees the touch that lasts a second too long, the desperation in their eyes. They pretend that they can't see that he sees.

 

Sam needs this; needs to feel his brother’s skin against his own. Dean’s not the only one messed up by the fact that Sam was dead. Sam needs this moment to make him feel like he’s alive, needs to feel Dean alive too. One year is not enough time for all the things Sam needs. 

 

Their first touches are tentative, but it doesn’t take long to change to demand. It doesn’t take long for Dean to hold too tight, for Sam to feel the familiar, tearing burn of his brother’s cock. There’s no lube, just a wad of spit rubbed hastily over Sam’s tight sphincter. Delicious pain. Sam arches tightly against the insistent thrusts of his brother, needing more than ever the certain knowledge that he is not alone in his own skin.

 

It doesn’t last long for either of them, it’s been too long and it feels too good for either of them to fight the orgasm when it hits. They climax together, Dean spurting hot inside Sam and Sam spurting hot between their bellies. They fall asleep wrapped around each other and Sam knows that this moment is the closest to heaven he’s ever been, or is ever going to be.

**_You know all I am_ **

**_Feel this moment in you_ **

**_You know all I am_ **

**_Can you teach me to believe in something_ **

Sometimes Sam wonders what will happen to them, if this is all they are ever going to have, and then he looks at his brother and knows it’s enough. It’s enough that they have each other; it has to be, because at the end of the day there’s nothing else. Sam likes to dream sometimes of a life without hunting, but he never dreams about a life without Dean, because that would be impossible.

 

**~FIN~**

~~~~~


End file.
